


Hold With Those Who Favor Fire

by exandriantrashpanda (topothesia)



Series: Fire and Ice [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series) RPF
Genre: M/M, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Shame Pit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-29 04:20:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15721863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/topothesia/pseuds/exandriantrashpanda
Summary: Written for a prompt on the Critical Kink meme which requested an a/b/o dynamic alternate universe.But by the time they’re on on their mid-episode break from the stream and he’s frantically splashing water over his flushed face in the small studio bathroom in the hopes of not going back out to the table looking red faced and desperate, Matt has to admit it: he’s fucked. Or, rather, the opposite problem: he’s not fucked, and suddenly he really, really, really needs to be.





	Hold With Those Who Favor Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt on the Critical Kink meme which requested an a/b/o dynamic alternate universe. Thanks to all the commenters on that thread who provided the initial scenario and helped me work things out. There is no intended dubcon in this story but I did let Matt get pretty thoroughly wrecked before, during, and after, so if that's not working for you, this is probably not your jam. Also, if you don't enjoy a/b/o dynamics, this is also not the story for you. It's really cozy in this pit of shame, but you don't have to join me if you don't want to. 
> 
> Title is from Frost's "Fire and Ice" which is, god help me, the name of this series. Because apparently there is more I could write in this AU about Sad Disaster Omega Matt and his Helpful Friends.

Matt didn’t mean to forget to pick up his medication refill. He really didn’t. Time just got away from him, like it always seems to when there’s 24 hours in the day and a seemingly infinite number of things he needs to do. And so when he goes to take his pills this morning before heading out the door, he discovers that he is completely out and has zero time to pick them up without upsetting the long and complicated chain of obligations that is his Thursday. He tells himself that he’ll be fine, that skipping one day wasn’t going to cause any problems, until he remembers that he’d also forgotten them the day before and the day before that, which was what finally forced him to call in the refill in the first place. But it will be fine. He’ll pick them up tomorrow, first thing. 

But by the time they’re on on their mid-episode break from the stream and he’s frantically splashing water over his flushed face in the small studio bathroom in the hopes of not going back out to the table looking red faced and desperate, Matt has to admit it: he’s fucked. Or, rather, the opposite problem: he’s not fucked, and suddenly he really, really, really needs to be. 

He looks down at the time on his phone, swears, and quickly dries his face and tries to get himself back together. A low, dull ache is beginning to pool at the base of his belly and radiate outward and around to his spine, but he ignores it and heads immediately back to the set. He’s in charge of this cat rodeo, and he doesn’t have time for this now. Gritting his teeth, he settles into his chair and gets ready to re-start the adventure. 

“You okay?” Laura murmurs to him right before they start.

“I’ll be fine,” Matt says quietly. “It’s just super hot in here. Long day. You know?”

Laura gives him a searching look, but then the crew starts the countdown, so whatever she was going to say will have to wait and she settles for giving him a sympathetic nod. 

Matt does his best to lose himself in the minutia of the game, and his players are always good distractions. Still, he finds himself occasionally having to duck down behind the screen to wipe at his sweaty face, and he’s pretty sure he’s never drunk so much water during an episode in his entire life. Fortunately everyone else is complaining about it being too hot in the new studio as well, so he’s hoping that everyone will chalk any symptoms he’s displaying up to that as well. The ache is getting even harder to ignore, but he’s played through worse before, and they’re so close to being where he wants them to be tonight, even if sometimes he can barely focus through the haze of desire creeping over his mind. 

They’ve almost made it to the end of the third hour when Matt forces himself to admit defeat. It feels like every nerve on his body is on fire, like he’s one tiny step away from becoming a creature of nothing but need. He knows everyone will be disappointed, but he’s got to imagine calling it early is better than the GM engaging in on-stream actions that would quickly get them banned from Twitch.

“So that’s where we’ll pick up next game,” Matt says.

Everyone groans with disappointment and a few of them ask “Can’t we just play a few minutes longer?”

“It’s already ten,” Matt says smoothly (or at least what he hopes is smoothly), “And my back is starting to hurt. We’ll pick this up next week, okay?”

Thankfully, everyone seems to accept this premise, the stream ends, and they all begin packing up to go home. 

On his way out, Matt ducks into the bathroom to splash some more water on his face before heading home. As he’s bent over the sink again, he hears the door open behind him. 

“Your back hurts? Oh, sweetheart, I think it’s more than your back that’s hurting right now, isn’t it? I could smell you halfway across the studio,” Taliesin drawls, stepping into the bathroom. 

Matt lets out a shuddering breath and braces his arms on the counter next to the sink as Taliesin steps even closer until he’s standing directly behind him. 

“I forgot my meds…” Matt says. “I didn’t have time to pick them up today. I’ll be fine.”

“You don’t seem very fine to me,” Taliesin says. “I mean, you’re always a fine specimen, but you don’t seem very...well...right now, Matthew.”

He’s not touching Matt, not even standing so close that Matt couldn’t easily just turn around and walk away, but just the sheer proximity of him is almost too much for Matt to take right now. 

“You really need to take better care of yourself, Matthew,” Taliesin continues, sighing disappointedly. “Although, I suppose some of that is my fault. I am supposed to take care of you.”

“I said I’d be fine,” Matt grits out, his face flushing again with a layer of shame on top of the need. He hates that he’s like this, which is why he’s taking the medication in the first place, and he’ll be damned if he gives in this time. 

“You always say that,” Tal says, sighing again, stepping just a little closer, enough so that their bodies are almost but not quite touching, so close but not close enough. He places a hand on the back of Matt’s neck and Matt can’t completely smother his whimper before angrily shaking it off again. 

“Oh, yes, you seem very fine to me,” Tal continues, exasperation creeping into his voice, “Red faced and distracted through the entire stream, wrapping us up just a little early, and now I find you back in the bathroom, so far gone that I can smell your pheromones three rooms away, not even able to make it home because you’re in such a bad way. Perfectly fine.”

Matt sighs equally exasperatedly and begins standing up, but before he can, Taliesin leans in and whispers in his ear, “Just how wet are you right now?” and he feels his knees go weak. 

“I just need to go home,” Matt snaps. “I’ll pick up my pills tomorrow morning, and then I will be fine. Okay?”

“Why won’t you just let me take care of you?” Tal growls, taking Matt by the arm and turning him so that they face each other. Taliesin’s face is also flushed, and there’s a predatory gleam in his eyes, a look that turns Matt’s knees to water. Inside his head, Matt feels himself stepping even closer to that precipice, and if he falls over the edge he’ll turn into a creature of nothing but need, and suddenly he’s got to get away from here. 

Matt pushes Taliesin’s arm away. “Because I fucking hate being like this!” he shouts, and belatedly hopes that everyone else has gone home for the night as the words come pouring out of him in a torrent that’s half shouting, half-sobbing. “I hate...I hate all of this...I didn’t ask to be like this. I don’t want to be like this! I don’t like losing control like this, even to you!” He starts to move towards the door again.

“Wait,” Taliesin says sharply. Matt looks back at Taliesin and sees that he’s pinching the bridge of his nose sharply, trying to get himself under control. Taliesin finally sighs with frustration and says, “At least let me drive you home, Matt. You’re in no shape to get yourself home safely.”

Matt glares at Taliesin, but also sighs because Tal does have a point. The only thing more embarrassing than unexpectedly going into heat would be ending up in a car accident because of it. 

“Just let me take you home,” Tal says, gentling his tone a little. “Okay? Look, I’ll make you a deal: Even though every particle of alpha in me wants to throw you down on the floor and fuck you senseless right now, if you’re still so sure that you’re going to be just fine after I take you home, I’ll leave you alone.” 

Matt sighs again. “Okay. Okay. Fine.”

Tal opens the door and gestures for Matt to precede him. He studiously avoids touching Matt as they walk out of the studio and get into Taliesin’s car, but just his proximity is amping Matt up even more. A chorus of voices in Matt’s head keep helpfully pointing out that his alpha is right there, right fucking there, and it’s been so long, so goddamn fucking long, too long, and all he has to do is lie down and let go and this horrible aching need will stop before it devours him whole. He snarls at those voices to shut up and rests his head against the back of the seat, closing his eyes and thinking that all he has to do is get through the next few minutes and he’ll be home. 

As much as Taliesin could -- and probably wants to -- touch him or tease him, he doesn’t, and Matt doesn’t know if that’s somehow better or worse, especially when he’s pretty much hanging on by just the barest thread. Instead, Taliesin barely speaks to Matt, choosing to turn the radio on instead. When he does speak, it’s necessary banalities like “I’m going to avoid the boulevard; I think there’s been an accident.” A thin layer of guilt joins the swirling emotional cocktail in Matt’s brain, as the voices point out that he’s supposed to please his alpha, his alpha takes care of him, his alpha loves him, why is he refusing him, why is he doing this to him? To them? Matt lifts a hand and brushes an annoying stray tear out of the corner of one of his closed eyes. If Taliesin notices, he says nothing. 

After what is probably the most excruciating half hour of Matt’s life, Matt feels the car stop and opens his eyes to see that they’re parked in his driveway. Matt immediately begins unbuckling his seatbelt and twists himself around to grab his bag from the backseat. While he’s doing that, Taliesin gets out of the car and opens Matt’s door for him. 

“You don’t need to…” Matt says, his voice thick with unshed tears and unspent need. He swallows hard, forcing both of them back down. 

“I will walk you to the door, and then you will look me in the eye and tell me that you’re perfectly fine. If you can do that, I will turn right around and leave,” Taliesin says, each syllable firm and precise. There’s an undercurrent of tension in his voice as if he’s also standing on the edge of the same precipice that Matt is, one stumble away from falling into a place of nothing but primal desire. 

“Fine,” Matt huffs, and they take the few short steps to Matt’s door in silence again. 

Matt begins to fumble for his keys, but Taliesin puts his hand on Matt’s wrist to stop him. “Look at me, Matthew. Look at me and tell me that you’re fine -- “ and Tal’s voice cracks, exposing his own intense desire for just a moment -- “And I will let you go.”

Matt is a throbbing mess from head to toe at this point; the dull localized pain from earlier is now a fire of need that’s spread through his whole body. He can barely focus through the haze in his brain. He grits his teeth again and forces himself to look up at Taliesin. Matt can read the struggle in Taliesin’s face and the tension in his now-taut body and knows that he’s struggling just as hard to maintain control. And yet he knows that Tal will keep his promise even if some other alphas just wouldn’t give their omegas a choice in a situation like this. 

Taliesin is gazing at him like all he wants is to consume Matt down to his soul, but still there’s some small bit of underlying tenderness, and it’s that slender sliver of love remaining in his eyes which becomes the push which sends Matt right off the cliff. 

“I’m...I’m not fine,” Matt finally admits, and buries his head in Taliesin’s shoulder, clutching at him and sobbing, practically keening with pent up need. 

Taliesin’s arms fold around Matt and he pulls him close. “Of course you’re not, my exasperating, stubborn, lovely, completely terrible and utterly foolish boy. Let’s go inside.” He reaches into Matt’s bag, finds the keys, and lets them into Matt’s apartment, Matt still half clutching at Taliesin like he’s drowning, whimpering and sobbing and shuddering against him as they make their way to the bedroom.

Taliesin practically peels Matt off of him so he can sit him down on the bed. Matt takes great heaving breaths, trying to stop crying. 

“You’re fucking shaking,” Taliesin comments as he begins pulling Matt’s t-shirt over his head with his own trembling hands. “You could have just fucking texted me earlier and we could have dealt with this so much more easily for both of us. Fuck, Matthew, what am I going to do with you?”

Still barely able to talk, Matt gives Taliesin a wet look of pure remorse and Taliesin’s anger seems to melt a little. “It’s all right now. I’ve got you. It’s going to be okay,” he murmurs to Matt as he helps him strip off his clothing and shoes before quickly removing his own. 

“ ‘m sorry,” Matt chokes out as a now naked Taliesin joins him on the bed. “I should have...I just couldn’t...just...” and he trails off into incoherent sobbing again.

Taliesin allows himself one more sigh of concerned exasperation and places his hands on Matt’s shoulders. “By all rights I should have just thrown you down on the bathroom floor forty-five minutes ago. Now I’m wondering if I should make you wait for this a little longer just so you fully and completely understand why not telling me immediately that you’d gone into heat was such a terrible, terrible idea.”

Once Taliesin’s words manage to penetrate through the fog surrounding Matt’s brain, Matt lets out another choked whimper. “No...please…”

“Please what?” Taliesin asks, pushing Matt back onto the bed and pinning down his wrists.

“Please don’t make me wait,” Matt whimpers. 

“Why, Matthew?” Taliesin says, nipping at Matt’s neck before biting down hard. Matt groans and arches up against Taliesin, rubbing up against him, all three days’ worth of pent up frustration straining for relief. “You’ve made me wait so very...fucking...long…” he continues, grinding his whole body down against Matt’s, relishing the friction between their flushed bodies, half-convinced that their mutual desire is producing actual sparks. He snarls, “You know you need me. Why do you do this every. fucking. time. you’re in heat?” He punctuates each word with a thrust of his body against Matt’s and finishes by biting down on the right side of Matt’s collarbone until it bruises.

“Please,” Matthew whimpers. “Please…fuck...” and struggles under Taliesin. “Please…” At this point he can’t even make words anymore; he’s completely and utterly lost to need, so he just whimpers pathetically, struggling under Taliesin’s restraint, trying to chase more sensation. 

Perhaps realizing that Matt is too far gone to even understand what he’s trying to tell him, or perhaps because he himself is not doing much better than that either, Taliesin growls deeply with both frustration and desire. He then releases Matt’s wrists and shifts to roughly spread Matt’s legs, yank him into position, and drive his cock into Matt’s slick hole in one full deep stroke. Matt screams with relief as Taliesin begins fucking him hard and fast, driving deep into him, both of them completely lost in the moment and in each other. 

At one point, Taliesin is kind enough to slip a hand down and roughly stroke Matt’s cock until he comes, which takes no time at all. Matt’s eyes roll back in his head as he shudders with relief and release, but Taliesin continues to fuck him mercilessly, all tenderness gone, filling Matt completely, scratching and biting until Matt is bruised and bleeding, growling and snarling: “You’re mine. Only mine. Always mine. Mine to use. Mine to breed. Mine forever.” Matt quietly rejoices in finally being exactly where he is supposed to be, all of the voices in his head now gone quiet, his world reduced to just existing to be filled and used and bred. 

Taliesin lets out a short sharp cry and his hips stutter as he pours out inside Matt, adding even more slick to what’s already there. His breath comes in pants as he slows, but he doesn’t pull out until he’s completely finished. When he finally pushes away from Matt’s limp form, Matt whines softly at the loss of their connection. 

Taliesin flops down next to Matt on the bed, still breathing hard. Matt rolls over into Taliesin’s embrace, still needing to be close. 

“Thank you,” Matt whispers as Taliesin again pulls him close. “Thank you.”

Taliesin traces a finger gently down Matt’s face. “You’re goddamned welcome. But please, promise me you won’t do something so incredibly fucking stupid like that again.”

Matt sighs contentedly and nuzzles Taliesin. “I promise.” 

“I’m going to spend the night here,” Taliesin says. “You’re in no fit state to take care of yourself right now, no matter how much you insist that you’re fine.” He kisses Matt lightly and nips at his lower lip.

Matt squirms against Taliesin, the flame of desire within him already rekindling, already wanting -- no, needing Taliesin to claim him again.

“Well, well,” Taliesin says, stroking a hand down Matt’s back. “Aren’t you just fine and dandy now that you’re in your proper place. Roll over. I still have yet to have you on your hands and knees.”

As Matt scrambles into position, he wonders if he can call in sick tomorrow. Or perhaps even call in dead, because he thinks all of this may actually kill him, but at least it will be a good death.


End file.
